


Talk less fuck more

by protaganope



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 08:56:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18587965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protaganope/pseuds/protaganope
Summary: “Open.”To tell the truth, he expected Burr to complain. Roll his eyes, wave him off.Instead, Burr leans forward again, eyes changed, dark. Leans across, takes Alexander’s fingers into his mouth and sucks them, wet, purposely loud. Hamilton swallows, eyes wide and insides clenching with newly lit desire.





	Talk less fuck more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waitfor_it](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfor_it/gifts).



> just know i use “clit” instead of “dick” for burr in case that makes you dyphoric idk

They're sitting on the couch, on a Friday. The night’s just beginning to take hold.

 

The sun, soaking in the earth, sent brush strokes of gold over buildings and pavement; the sky, blushing in the gradual cool air of a day at its end. Burr had come home to Hamilton asleep on the couch, woken him accidentally by turning the television off. Had been careful to hook his jacket on the door before fixing the two of them some coffee, decaffeinated and caffeinated respectively.

 

He rests them on the table before sitting down next to his partner. They chat a little, Hamilton pulling open his laptop from the floor, Burr opening his most recent novel. As the night draws on, Hamilton begins to shift. Burr gazes over at him, unimpressed.

 

“Character dilemma?” He asks dryly, eyes flicking up and down Hamilton’s word document, which lay devilishly still in his lap. He’d stopped typing, staring at the screen with furrowed brow. Burr sighs, low and refreshing, anticipated like the crash of waves, but he doesn't put his book down. The writer nods at him distantly, clearly devising something.

 

Burr is patient. Eventually, Hamilton let loose all the air in his lungs at once, frustration and unsteady impotency giving new energy to his veins.

 

Then, he turns to look at his partner. Now was where Aaron chose to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. Curiously christian, curiously unlike Burr, after all these years. They both had come to hold much more confidence than that. He closes his laptop, slow. It dawns on him.

 

There was opportunity here. Perhaps they could have a little fun.

 

He points his index and middle fingers at Aaron, makes a statement that’s really a question and tries to keep his voice steady.

 

“Open.”

 

To tell the truth, he expected Burr to complain. Roll his eyes, wave him off.

 

Instead, Burr leans forward again, eyes changed, dark. Leans across, takes Alexander’s fingers into his mouth and sucks them, wet, purposely loud. Hamilton swallows, eyes wide and insides clenching with newly lit desire.

 

Yes, this was promising.

 

A few testing moves to see how this can go, and Hamilton is all but fucking Burr’s mouth with his fingers, saliva creeping down his hand. The slick sound only helps their arousal, and Alex doesn’t even notice he’s palming himself until Burr bats his hand away to replace it with his own. He glances over Burr’s teeth, pulls a shudder out of him and starts rubbing over his tongue, which had grown unused to touch. Aaron moves away, and Alex lets him.

 

“You, or me?” His voice is an uncertain thing after the heated silence. Burr hums, smiles faintly but doesn’t respond. “Burr.”

 

Burr makes to stretch. His business suit doesn’t allow much movement or slither of skin for the eye to properly linger, but it is a delight to see the faint planes of muscle shift under the fabric.

 

Eventually, when Hamilton is beginning to think he should simply suggest they retire for the night, Burr graces him with a response.

 

“Yes.” He says, and Hamilton raises a brow, opens his mouth to argue how that didn’t make any sense, when, “Honestly, Alexander,” and Hamilton could listen to this man say his name all day, fuck— “Talk less. I’m tired.” There’s dual meaning here; Burr was always like that, less words to utter, he supposed. Obedient, he goes to fetch the things they need. He knows that things are fine when he hears the shower turn on.

 

Burr’s always been annoying when it comes to things like this. But Hamilton's okay with that; he knows Burr is still a little jarred that he even cared enough to ask. They both had to get used to it, in that sense. Previous partners hadn’t been so considerate.

 

(And considerate wasn’t the right word, he knew, but it was just that for the two of them. They weren’t quite yet familiar with it, that which should be considered basic human decency. It should come with time, though, and they had a lot of that now. Strange indeed, how life turns out.)

 

They reconvene in the bedroom. The thick curtains are drawn shut, and it helps a great deal in making the room feel just that little bit safer. Burr’s skin is damp from his shower but neither of them care as he sits, relaxed with nothing but his unbuttoned shirt, on the bed, half-lidded eyes watching Hamilton expectantly. Alex rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth, lube in his left hand, and clambers to him, twisting his face when Aaron laughs silently at his eagerness. Once he’s shimmied out of his boxers (he’s been home all day, there was no need for pants) it’s his turn to lean over to Aaron, and he can’t help the curl of his lips, smiling, as he kisses his partner.

 

It’s deep and dirty in seconds, the usual nature of Burr’s kisses drawn out with every passing moment. This was the man Alex had found so alluring, the one who had been sat— reclined, almost— so at home in the corner of the shadiest strip bar in New York. The man who had delayed their adventure to move house because he kept finding old toys of his that he managed to rope Hamilton into trying, each one just once, of course.

 

Their breathing picks up as Burr slides into his lap, his hands hooking around Hamilton’s shoulders and head, Hamilton’s own coming to rest on the swell of Burr’s ass. Aaron is far past wet at this point, can smell it mixed in with Hamilton’s scent, heady.

 

For now, though? Unimportant.

 

Aaron likes to tug and guide, so he does, a handful of Alexander’s long strands of hair quickly pulled tight at the scalp. He swallows Alex’s stuttering out of a moan and takes one hand off to squeeze the head of his cock briefly. It’s fat and straining already, and Alex runs his blunt nails down Aaron’s side, encouraging.

 

 

“Can I?” Aaron asks lowly, eyes flicking down to the twitching member between them, and Alex nods so fast he’s worried the man might get whiplash.

 

Burr lies down first, stares disinterested at the ceiling for a moment, before Hamilton cocks a leg up and over to straddle him. He presses his fingers to the meat on his legs, implicitly instructing him to lean forward. Hamilton listens, and Aaron could purr. “Fuck my throat,” he mumbles, ghosting over Hamilton’s arousal. Alex whines, almost reflexively, pretty and more than a touch spoilt, but Burr decides to indulge him, this time. He pops his mouth open wide and takes the reddened glans of the head into his mouth easy enough, feels Hamilton stiffen slightly before relaxing into it. He licks, lazy, gathers saliva in his mouth to coax the foreskin back.

 

Hamilton takes a shaky breath and remembers what he should’ve been doing. The lube bottle is cool beside him, and he grabs a generous amount onto his fingers before pulling apart Aaron’s labia. He rolls one side between his fingers and, sensing Aaron’s quiet intake of breath, moves on. It’s when he circles his engorged clit, hot and stiff, that Aaron’s hips do that small circle-grind thing (with the accompanying gasp), and Hamilton moans, pleased. Burr’s sounds tend to be short lived, but are always worth hearing. As it is, Aaron’s grip is tight on Hamilton’s thighs, and that tells him enough.

 

It’s when Burr presses his thumb against Alex’s perineum that things really get going. He’s not thinking much about it as he does, half playing with Alex’s balls when he figures it was worth a try. He wasn’t expecting Hamilton’s thighs to tense, pull him closer, his hips bucking and inviting his dick to sink a little deeper into Aaron’s mouth. Alex’s voice raises at least an octave, basically a full on whimper, and Aaron finds his torso raising, pushing further against Alex’s hands. But Alex is wary.

 

“I’m— sorry, that felt really good,” Alex says after a moment, hurriedly. He seemed without words for a moment, breathless, or perhaps simply composing thought. “Burr?”

 

Aaron pulls off with a pop. Alex swears softly, but when he makes to climb off, Aaron stops him.

 

“Alexander.” His voice was raspier than expected.

 

“Fuck, yeah?”

 

“Please, do that again.”

 

He gets a long, eager and draw-out moan in response.

 

Hamilton wastes no time. Leans back over, and, carefully as he can, lines his hips up. Puts attention back on open mouth kisses that has Aaron buzzing. Any moans he would have made were muffled by the stretch of his lips and the consistent, asserting thrust of Alex’s hips. It’s hot, it’s rough, it’s deep and it’s _good._

 

Burr’s saliva is warm and wet down his face and he eventually gives up trying to wipe it away, then savours the clench of his insides at the simple thought process. Hamilton’s in a similar state, from what he can hear. Every sensation seems to be getting amplified, he can feel every lick and tease of fingers, pressing at his g-spot, rubbing up and down just right.

 

His heart beats fast, and he’s so sensitive his whole body is starting to shake irrepressibly.

 

He moves his mouth a little, side to side, squeezing Alex’s balls tighter and Alex pauses enough to curse quickly, before, “Coming, coming, Aaron, sir—“ 

 

Hamilton’s hips still as he cries out, flush and choking as Burr swallows around him. Keeps going until he’s hissing and trying to move off him. Aaron smiles to himself at this, and if his last move is a deliberate, loud slurp of Alex’s whole member, just to hear that high pitched groan again, who’s to know? He knows Alex loves it, they’ve had the conversation already.

 

Again, it’s really hot.

 

Hamilton’s smile shifts from dreamy to feline here, smirking. His beard is plastered to his face.

 

Aaron lets out a laugh. Lets Hamilton manoeuvre him into his lap to rub at his clit again, kiss his neck and whisper in his ear. And Aaron leans into it, then, grabs Alex’s face with a hand, trying to cover the expressions he wants to make. He’s only slightly embarrassed, so kissing the oxygen away from Alex’s lungs seems like a good enough way. Grimaces playfully at the texture of his beard and laughs at Hamilton’s mock offence.

 

He comes with an uncontrollable shudder, thighs tight together and a quiet, pleased sigh escaping him.

 

They sit there a long moment, before staggering to their feet to clean up. Aaron can hardly feel his legs. After some quick teasing, Alex happily helps him over to the bathroom. A quick shower (Alex nearly slips, stubs his toe, “I’m not kissing that better.” “This is _erasure_.”) and the two of them slip into bed, chat, pull out some work (Hamilton, of course) and check in with the news app (Burr, shaking his head amusedly) before turning in.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
